Love Letter
by VooDoo Doll13
Summary: Sam finds something Dean wrote about him just after he'd left for college, something that rocks his world...Slash/Wincest. Strong rating for future sensual/sexual content...


**Warning!**: This piece contains Slash/Wincest.

If you do not wish to read that type of story, best to move on now…flaming will not be tolerated as you have been forewarned!

Flaming comments will be mocked for their stupidity and will only serve to make you look like an idiot…..so please, save yourself the humiliation….

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the boys, but I'm open to purchasing them…Hey, Kripke! Call me!!! I'll make you an offer you can't refuse… *eyes flash demon-red*

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**Love Letter**

**Chapter 1: Found Out**

_Sam…_

_I love you so many ways…for so many reasons…for so many tiny, little things you say and do…and even for no reason at all…_

_The way your nose scrunches up sometimes…the way I can see your thoughts and emotions in your big, beautiful eyes…the way your lips quirk into a tiny, amused smile when I'm acting like a big, goofy kid…the way your skin is so soft and smooth to the touch…the way that your strong and tough and buff, but still have a softness about in the way you help me up and take care of my wounds…the sweet, musky scent that's just purely, solely your own…_

_I love all of that about you and a million other things…_

_I love you Sammy, my Sammy…my little brother, best friend, my one true love._

_Dean_

Sam looked up, wide-eyed as his brother stumbled into the room, his mouth clutching a greasy paper sack while his hands balanced a tray of coffees, a newspaper, a bag of rock salt and the room key. Dean wasn't really looking at him, he was hurrying to put down his burdens on the table in front of the window of their room. He spoke over his shoulder as he pulled the bag out of his teeth to set down.

"Hey, Sammy…I got you that macchio-whatever thing you like…I wrote it down to make sure I got it right, so if it's fucked up, it's totally not my fault…oh, and they were out of bagels so you get a choice between a blueberry-bran muffin or a cranberry-walnut scone, so what'll it be?" Dean rambled.

Sam didn't answer. Dean turned around to look at his brother.

"Sammy?" he asked quizzically.

It was then that he noticed something. His duffle was tipped completely over, all it's contents spilled out over his bed. The old notebooks, 5 in total, that he'd recently found in a storage box at Bobby's, had been tucked into the very bottom of his duffle. He had a few random books tucked in there, too, that hadn't fit into the research duffle and since his belongings were decidedly smaller in size than Sammy's, he had just made room in his duffle to make sure they could be handy if needed. He noticed also that one of the notebooks was splayed open on the bed like it had been dropped. Dean recognized the ratty cover immediately. He shifted his gaze slowly up to Sam's hands which were hovering just in front of his chest. He had a piece of paper clutched in his hand and a dumb-founded look on his face. Dean knew instantly just exactly what Sam held in his hand. When Dean had originally found the notebooks, he'd found something else he'd tucked inside long ago, from not long after Sam had ripped himself away from his family and gone off to college.

Dean tried to draw air into his screaming lungs but found he couldn't suck enough breath in past the huge lump that had appeared in his throat. His frightened eyes looked from Sam's face to the paper and back again in a slow, morbid, darting dance. He was starting to feel light-headed and his chest and stomach were clenching in abject terror and shame.

Sam worked to close his jaw, which had dropped after he'd began reading the paper, and he finally succeeded in closing it, his mouth now as arid as the Mojave. He swallowed convulsively, trying to get enough moisture in his mouth to speak.

"Dean…what is this?" Sam rasped out.

When Dean had found the paper, he'd planned to throw it out, but Sam had come back into the room at that moment and he'd had to shove it back into the notebook rapidly to hide it. He forgotten it was there until right now. It had been from a particularly low point in his life. Sam had gone off to college, dad had left soon there after, not needing a broken, worthless, useless man, who could never compare to the son he'd lost, tagging along. Dean had been on a steady diet of booze then, hardly eating, hunting recklessly, driving too fast, picking fights when he hustled pool and poker…He'd been a mess. Sam wouldn't answer and hadn't called and neither had dad. Dean had been lonely and depressed and hoping to die. He'd gotten sappy and sentimental one night and had written down the thoughts and feelings he'd had for his brother since Sammy had become a teenager. He'd never told anyone, most certainly not Sam. He'd hardly been able to think about it himself, to admit that he loved him in more than just a brotherly way…

Dean had figured he'd die sooner or later with the way he was going and he'd never have to tell a soul. He'd kept the damn paper, for reasons he couldn't even begin to comprehend and eventually, he'd evened out a bit, accepting he'd be alone now, that he deserved to be alone and then he'd just sorta lost track of the note after that, especially after Jess had died and Sam had jumped back into hunting at his side.

Sam knew now…and Dean had never felt so terrified and vulnerable in his life. Dean turned and stumbled out the door, his quaking legs only able to carry him around the back of the building before giving out and sending him unceremoniously to the ground. He felt the familiar twisting clench in his stomach and he tipped forward on his hands and knees just in time to feel the bile sting his throat as it pour forth from his pale, quivering lips. He wretched over and over again, the fear of what Sam would think, what he would say now that he knew. Dean just knew his brother would be disgusted with the shameful knowledge that he'd worked so hard to bury inside himself. He trembled through the dry heaves for ages until his body finally felt it had had enough and was done for now. Dean shakily tipped himself back and stumble-crawled his way to the shelter of the back of a walled-up dumpster surround, collapsing against the grimy stone surface and riding out the slowly subsiding waves of nausea.

Sam had been searching for an old tome, not finding it in the research duffle, he knew it must be in his brother's bag. He dumped the contents over onto the bed, knowing it would be easier to get it from the bottom then try and fight his way through the tightly packed rolls of Dean's clothes. The clothes spilled out and then the notebooks and books tumbled out after. He knew he should probably had waited til Dean got back, but he hadn't slept much and he was cranky and impatient that day, so he just decided to get it himself. When the notebooks tumbled out, they had mostly fallen neatly flat on top of the books. One, however, had flopped out all akimbo, shooting a folded piece of paper out of its depths and causing it to flutter to the floor. Sam bent to retrieve it, thinking to just tuck it back into the notebook and get on with his research. When he held it up, though, he saw his name faintly written on the worn and aged piece of note paper. Curious, he'd opened and started reading and once he started, he couldn't stop. He was aghast with what was written on the page, leaving him flabbergasted, a personal favorite word of his and speechless. And that was how Dean had found him when he'd come fumbling back into the room.

Sam could see the terror and agonizing shame crashing over his big brother's features as he figured out what it was that he held in his hands. Sam had thought Dean might pass out, so pale and shaky he'd become. When Dean couldn't even answer his question, instead, stumbling on unsteady legs back out of the room, Sam had gone to full panic mode. He rounded the bed, stumbling out after him, not seeing him anywhere. The car was still there, so his big brother couldn't have gone far. He set off down the street, not seeing Dean anywhere in the quiet, early morning street. He turned and made his way the other way, not seeing him that way either. He pulled out his phone, hitting the speed dial for his brother. As he let it ring, Dean not picking up, he heard the faint tones of the tinny, ringtone version of AC/DC's Thunderstruck. He followed the noise, making it only a few steps before it turned off. He dialed again, continuing in the direction he had been following it to, hearing it briefly before it was turned off again. It was coming from behind the motel. He rounded the corner to the back, almost walking straight into the puddle of bile on the ground. Dean had been sick, he guessed, it being too recent and too close to not be from him. He peered around, not seeing his wayward brother for a long moment before finally spying the edge of his jeans just peeking out for around the corner of a dumpster surround a little bit farther back.

Sam walked loudly, making sure Dean would hear him coming, not wanting to spook his brother. He rounded the corner, seeing his big brother drawn in tight, arms wrapped around himself, head buried into the denim of his knees. His whole body was trembling.

"Dean?" Sam asked in a quiet, soothing voice. Dean wouldn't or couldn't answer. He reached out his slightly shaky hand, clasping Dean on his shoulder.

"Dean, hey man…just come back to the room with me, ok?"

Dean's head slowly lifted to look at him and Sam could see the tear tracks snaking over his face.

"Come on big brother…let me help you back to the room and get you cleaned up, ok?" Sam said gently as he gingerly helped his brother to his feet. Dean was still wobbly as he guided him back to the room, closing and locking the door behind him. Silently, Sam got a washcloth and a bottle of water for his brother before sinking down facing him on the opposite bed. Dean wouldn't look up at him, just meekly washing off his face and downing the water in large gulps until the bottle was empty. He placed the items on the bedside table and sat staring at his hands, waiting for the words of disgust and the subsequent leaving he knew his little brother would be coming to all too soon.

Sam silently watched Dean trying to steady himself, washing his face, drinking the water then discarding the items to the table before practically collapsing in on himself as he sat in silence waiting for the next move. Sam took in a deep breath, needing the moment to prepare himself to ask the questions that were tearing their way through his mind.

"Dean…" Sam started, seeing the slight flinch his brother made.

"Dean…what is this? I mean…you wrote this, right?" Sam said quietly as he lifted up the worn paper.

Dean's eyes slid shut, his shame gnawing away inside himself. It was time to man up and accept the consequences. He nodded, still not trusting his voice.

"Ok…when?" Sam asked.

"Uh…not long after you…um…not long after you left for Stanford…" Dean murmured.

"Ok…um…how…how long…had you felt…this way…toward me…"

"Not sure, really…since when you were a teenager…after you started growing like a weed…I think you were probably 14 going on 15 or so…" he said nervously.

"Um…do you…still…love me…like that?" Sam asked nervously.

Dean sighed, his eyes closing again. "Yes." He breathed out in a desperate whisper.

Sam's heart swelled. Since the moment he'd read the words, he had trying to work up the courage to tell Dean that he felt the same way toward him. He loved his big brother dearly, had for many years. He'd never known how to tell him, though, fearing his brother's rejection. It had been one of the reasons he'd fled to college: he had to escape from being so close to his brother before he made a fool of himself and possibly ruined any chance for any kind of relationship with his big brother. Sam's eyes welled with tears. He wasn't alone! His brother loved him, too!

Sam slipped down to his knees, kneeling in front of his brother. Dean must have been really out of sorts because he didn't seem to notice Sam had moved until Sam gently clasped his wrists and moved them out of the way. He felt Dean tense, still keeping his eyes clamped shut. Sam moved his own hands to tenderly cup Dean's face, tilting his head up so he could look into his eyes, but Dean still wouldn't open his and look back at him.

"Dean…open your eyes…" Sam murmured, his face close to his brother's, his breath ghosting over it softly.

A tear slipped down Dean's face and his eyes remained closed. Sam leaned forward, gently brushing his lips over the tender flesh of his eye lids before placing lingering, soft kisses on his brow and the tip of his nose. Sam pulled back, looking at his brother once again.

"Dean…please look at me…" Sam pleaded softly. Another tear rolled down his face. Sam stroked it away with a brush of his thumb.

Dean could never say no when Sam said please, though...He opened his tear-filled eyes and gazed back at his brother.

Sam looked long and hard into the familiar moss green orbs, at last deciding that he seen all he needed to see. He leaned in slowly, his eyes sliding shut as his lips brush over Dean's in a timid, questioning kiss before pulling away to gage his brother's reaction. Dean was wide-eyed as he looked back at him.

"Sammy?..." Dean asked softly, unable to process what had just happened.

"I love you, too Dean..." Sam whispered softly, his sincere gaze never wavering. He bent forward and captured Dean's lips in a tender kiss, a kiss that held in it the promise of all his love.

Dean tensed, mind whirling in a million different directions as he tried to understand what to do. He desperately wanted this...only this, forever...but the part of him that had been denying this for the better part of his life just couldn't seem to let go, so Dean pulled himself away from Sam's kiss.

"Sammy...we can't...it's wrong..." Dean murmured, unable to meet Sam's eyes again.

"No. You want this...I want this...it's no one else's business. I love you. I'm always going to love you. I know, now. I can never go back to how things were. If you don't want to be with me, I need to leave. I won't live a lie, not anymore..." Sam whispered.

"Sammy...I..."

Dean was torn. He knew that if they crossed this line, there was no going back. He wanted this, desperately. His heart and soul cried out for his brother, the love that had burned fiercely inside him for so long was practically thrummming with joy and eagerness to take that final step. The rational part of him, though, knew that this was a giant leap away from normal, even for them. Sammy had always wanted normal...could he really take that away from him? Forever? Just because he loved and needed his brother, could he really take away any chance of Sam having the life he'd always wanted?

"Sammy...I can't do that to you...All you've ever wanted was a normal life...This...is NOT normal...I can't take that away from you, man...as much as I love you, I can't take that from you." Dean said quietly.

Sam sighed. Once again, his big brother was trying to make a decision for him, trying to make sure he had what he wanted, even if Dean himself had to suffer because of it. Sam shook his head in exasperation.

"No, Dean. It wasn't normal I wanted...it was safe. I wanted to feel safe...and I only feel that way...with you."

Dean's widened in confusion...god...what was he supposed to do? He tried to think, tried to voice his fears, but he was finding it exceedingly difficult.

"Sammy..." Dean started, but he didn't get to finish. Sam swept in and captured his mouth in a mind-numbing kiss, blanking out any objections he may have had. Dean couldn't fight it any longer...he surrendered to his baby brother, giving himself over to the one he loved most in the world.

TBC...

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**A/N:** Okie Dokie!!! Some fluffy, angsty Winchester love for ya...

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